


One Night to be Confused (One Night to Speed Up Truth)

by allimarie_xf



Series: Not your typical secretary [7]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: CEO! Oliver, EA! Felicity, F/M, Season/Series 02, Sexual Tension, except not specifically in this story, fictober18, i refuse to say whether it's resolved, pre-oliver/sara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-26 00:25:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16208831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allimarie_xf/pseuds/allimarie_xf
Summary: “You said any girl I like and she’s mine?” Oliver's tone contained a subtle challenge. He laid his hand possessively on Felicity’s shoulder. “I like her.”~~~Season 2 UST~~Also my entry for Fictober18 Day 5: “Take what you need.”





	One Night to be Confused (One Night to Speed Up Truth)

**Author's Note:**

> Like the other stories in this series (Not Your Typical Secretary), this one can stand alone or be seen as loosely connected to the others. Within that universe, this definitely happens after [Too Much or Not Enough. ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15859746)
> 
> Unlike the other stories in that series, thinking of this one as canon-compliant would be a stretch.
> 
> And this is also a random Fictober18 tag because everyone was writing them and I wanted to be cool, too. ;)

“Well, well, Oliver Queen! Welcome to my club! Please, come in, make yourself comfortable.” Even over the comms, the man’s voice gave Felicity the creeps.

“Richard, good to see you. It’s been a long time. I admit I was surprised when my manager told me you were the owner of this place. I thought I was in for a business meeting, but it turns out I’ll have the pleasure of catching up with an old friend.”

“Oh, I require pleasure with all my business, and not only because my business is pleasure. Come, let’s have a seat, get a drink. I’ll find you some company.”

Felicity lost sight of Oliver momentarily as he moved behind the drunken mob lined up at the bar. “Oof.” She was trying to stay close, but the swarm of people was making it difficult. When she made it past the line for the bar, she saw Richard presenting three scantily-clad women to Oliver, who had managed to seat himself so that he was facing the rest of the club.

“A brunette, a redhead, and a blonde. Take your pick - or mix and match, I don’t judge.”

Felicity felt a surge of disgust at Oliver’s childhood friend’s smarmy laughter as he offered up women like options at a buffet, but she stopped herself from muttering anything. Her communication line was open, and she didn’t want to distract Oliver from what they had come to do: figure out whether Richard was dealing drugs - and perhaps other things - out of his club. She sensed Oliver’s hesitation, and realized - god help her - that he needed encouragement. “What would Oliver Queen do?” she murmured into the comm. Then she rolled her eyes, wondering what John would think of her encouraging Oliver’s habit of talking about himself in the 3rd person.

“How about a brunette, to start?” From her vantage, she saw Oliver’s arms wrap around the woman in question, pulling her into his lap. Over the comms, Felicity heard the woman squeal alluringly. He kept his eyes on her as he continued speaking to Richard. “Nice place.” He stroked the brunette’s arm with deliberate slowness, signalling that she was included in his assessment of the club. “I might have to steal your DJ. But you never did say - how did you get into the business?”

“Well actually, you inspired me, Oliver. A club as a hobby! Genius. I should have thought of it first. Oh - excuse me just one second.”

Richard stood up and moved away with a man who had appeared at his shoulder. Felicity followed him discreetly, hoping to learn anything that might help her gather intel. In her ear, she heard Oliver’s flirty voice. The higher-pitched one that always came out sounding like an invitation. Not that Felicity had been on the receiving end of it.

“So, what’s your name?”

“Holly.” There was a pause and then Holly gasped. “Oh, god! The rumors are true.”

“What rumors?” Felicity heard the smile in his voice. She wasn’t jealous. She was not. He was just acting, and anyway just because he was a brooding vigilante didn’t mean he also didn’t have needs and attractions and who was she to judge?

“That you are really, really good with your hands.” She giggled breathily as Oliver pushed her hair over one shoulder and ran his lips lightly over her exposed neck. “And your mouth.”

“I bet the rumors aren’t totally true.” His suggestive tone was muffled as he spoke against her skin.

“I wouldn’t mind finding out.”

Turned out Felicity was totally judging.

Richard was returning to Oliver’s table, and the part of her brain that was still focused on the mission noted which door the man who had pulled him away had disappeared into; the door that was probably the office that contained some very-hackable computers.

“So how’s it going, Oliver? Everywhere I look I see the efforts of your PR people: Oliver Queen, prodigal son taking over the helm of the family business.” He looked at Oliver appraisingly. “I can see why, of course. Your mom and everything that happened in the Glades; it’s just good business. But I wonder if a leopard can really change its spots….”

It was a perfect opening. “If you had to guess, what do you think?”

Richard spoke in a lower voice. “I’m betting Oliver Queen still likes to party.”

“What makes you say that?” Felicity noted that his hands were absently stroking Holly’s thigh, right up to the hem of her very short skirt.

“Well, the club, for one. Why go to all the trouble to own your own club unless you’re planning to avail yourself of all the...perks...that come with club ownership?”

“There _are_ a lot of perks. They beat out the perks of being a CEO.” As if to emphasize his point, his hands drifted under Holly’s dress. She squirmed on his lap but she seemed to be enjoying herself. The men carried on as if she were not an actual person sitting there.

“Well. Aside from the occasional affair with your secretary, I’d say it’s no contest.” Richard seemed to be watching Oliver with satisfaction.

Oliver laughed. “I don’t know how long it’s been since you were in a corporate office, but the ‘hot secretary’ thing is sadly over-exaggerated.” He turned his head to direct his next words toward Holly. “I think ‘hot girl at the nightclub’ is much more of a sure thing.”

Holly giggled again, and Felicity told herself that the sudden flash of heat and uncomfortable emotions was anger on behalf of Holly and the objectification of women in general, and nothing to do with Oliver’s casual dismissal of the potential appeal of secretaries - or Executive Assistants, as the case may be.

“Oh, and they are _all sure things_ , Oliver. Any girl you see, any girl you like - she’s yours. We make sure our VIP customers are well taken care of.”

Oliver raised his eyebrows, appearing impressed. “Talk about perks.”

Holly leaned over and purred into his ear, “Take what you need. Anything you want.” She shifted in his lap to emphasize her meaning, and Felicity heard Oliver’s sudden intake of breath.

Richard was watching Oliver shrewdly. “My general manager informed me you wanted to set up this meeting to discuss business matters that could be mutually beneficial. I find myself wondering, Oliver, what sort of benefits you have in mind? I mean, don’t get me wrong - we were quite a team at Starling Prep - but I can’t imagine what my club could offer that yours lacks.”

Felicity began making her way toward the darkened hallway, which was finally empty. She tugged her too-short dress down and projected an aura of drunkenness, deciding to simply try the office door. If someone found her in there she’d simply go with the classic “whoops is this not the way to the bathroom?” line that criminal underlings always seemed to fall for; no harm, no foul.

In her ear, Oliver was still schmoozing. “It’s not a question of what my club lacks, Richard. How long have you been in the business - three months? Six? After a while you’ll understand what I mean when I say every place needs something new every few months to stay relevant. Something to keep it fresh.”

As he spoke, Felicity was trying to casually cross in front of his table toward the back hall, but the crowd around her had unfortunately evaporated, and she felt Oliver’s eyes on her, heard the slight hesitation in his voice as a result of the distraction. She suddenly felt very exposed.

“Wow. How about that ass?” Richard’s voice was pitched to carry, and Felicity felt a chill go up her spine. She felt trapped by his words, not positive she was the one who had caught his attention, but unwilling to continue her move toward the office in case he was watching her. “Honey!” Felicity felt compelled to turn toward him to be sure.

Shit. He was looking right at her, his arm extended. “Come here, babe.” This was not part of the plan.

Felicity resolutely did not look at Oliver as she moved with leaden feet toward Richard. She was supposed to look drunk. Carefree. Even happy to be singled out. She told herself these things, but she couldn’t make her face reflect them.

But Richard didn’t seem to notice, or at least he didn’t seem to care. “Is this your first time at my club? I’m Richard Astor.” He reached out for her hand, but instead of shaking it, he used it to pull her toward him so that she found herself suddenly standing inside his personal space. “What’s your name, sweetie?” Felicity noticed that he wasn’t looking at her face; he was looking over her shoulder and down her body.

“Megan.”

“Megan. That’s a pretty name, and a pretty dress. You wanna come sit on my lap?” He was already pulling her close.

“Richard.” Oliver was suddenly at her shoulder, and certainly closer to both of them than Richard probably appreciated. “You said any girl I like and she’s mine?” His tone contained a subtle challenge. He laid his hand possessively on Felicity’s shoulder. “I like her.”

Felicity held her breath, not daring to look into either man’s face. It occurred to her to wonder what had happened to Holly. She felt like the rope in a game of tug-of-war: Richard’s possessive grasp on her wrist versus the reassuring weight of Oliver’s hand on her shoulder. She relaxed a tiny bit when she felt him give her an imperceptible squeeze.

After a long moment, Richard released her, and Felicity had to actively suppress her sigh of relief. And then Oliver was pulling her back against his chest and wrapping one arm around her upper body, letting his other hand slide down the length of her waist to rest lightly on her hip.

The two men faced each other, Felicity between them, and she sensed that the apparent joviality between them had been replaced by a particular kind of tension. “Let’s go talk business.” Richard turned on his heel and moved toward the office Felicity had been attempting to infiltrate.

She moved to follow, but she was stopped by Oliver’s arms pulling her closer instead of letting her go. He turned his head into the angle of her neck and the sudden press of his lips against her skin sent a zap of electricity straight down her body to where wetness was already pooling between her legs. Just as suddenly, he released her and walked off, reaching back and grabbing her hand, pulling her along like an afterthought, and it was all she could do to not stumble as she followed.

This was definitely not part of the plan. True, her sneaking off to have a peek at their (offline, alas) books was not part of the plan either, but if she had been successful, it would have improved significantly on the plan. It was a two-part plan: part one required them to get a feel for the operation and locate their books, while part two required them to return when no one was around in order to download them. Felicity’s short-cut would have totally eliminated the need for part two.

But now she had even lost the opportunity to poke around unnoticed while Oliver distracted their host, and there was nothing left to do but play along and hope she didn’t give herself away. She followed Oliver as Richard’s extended arm invited them to step through the doorway, and the room they suddenly found themselves in was not at all what Felicity had expected. Instead of a dim, cluttered office, they were in some sort of VIP lounge with black lights and secluded seating.

Oliver turned an impressed face to Richard before following him to a private circle of couches. Richard seemed partially appeased. “It’s like I said: I always mix business and pleasure.”

He invited Oliver to sit on a plush chaise, and Felicity found herself being pulled into Oliver’s lap. She wasn’t used to being pushed and pulled, and part of her was righteously indignant at being treated like a life-sized Barbie. But a less principled part of her noted that Oliver smelled really good, and the way his arm held her close around the waist didn’t feel particularly degrading. She could still feel the ghost of where his lips had touched her neck, and her body was still vibrating with low-key lust.

Richard was standing over them. “Why don’t you take a moment to get acquainted with my friend Megan, and I’ll go get us some drinks. I’m interested to hear your proposition, Oliver. But first, we need to be in the mood to strike a mutually beneficial deal.”

He walked away and in one swift motion Oliver shifted her on his lap so that she ended up straddling him, his hands at her waist, their faces so close in the dark that she couldn’t focus on his eyes.

“Oliver, I’m sorry -”

He moved one hand to the back of her head and then his lips were on hers, their softness set off by his slightly rough stubble.

Felicity gasped, caught off guard, and pulled slightly back. But then she remembered that they were supposed to be playing a part, and that part required her to act as if making out with Oliver Queen was a totally normal, if awesome, thing. She made a snap judgment that they were both perfectly capable of doing this without letting it become A Thing. As a matter of fact, they kind of didn’t have a choice.

But Oliver, being Oliver, sensed her hesitation. “Felicity -”

Shaking her head, Felicity took his face in her hands and leaned in to brush her lips over his. She felt a sudden rush of possessiveness, as if running her thumbs over his cheekbones granted her special privileges, and she paused, her parted lips hovering over his. Oliver was completely still under her touch for a moment, and then he slid his hand from the back of her head to her jaw, bringing her lips into contact with his before dipping his tongue just inside her open mouth. The taste of him had an electrifying effect, and without thinking she opened her mouth wider, inviting him in, deeper. Holding her face in his hand, he stroked his tongue into her mouth, once, twice, changing the angle and encouraging her to kiss him back.

Felicity responded by scooting closer to him, widening her legs and causing her dress to ride higher on her thighs, but at the moment she didn’t care. She ran one hand under his suit coat while she grazed the fingers of her other hand through the hair at the back of his neck, and she let herself be drawn in to his deep, slow kisses, their tongues touching, caressing, curling around each other.

She felt his hand on her bare knee, felt his fingernails as they forged a deliberate path along her thigh, higher, over delicate skin, toward the inevitable endpoint, and she widened her legs in unconscious invitation. She was panting, and he seemed to be breathing just as hard in between kisses as he captured her lower lip between his, then pulled back slightly, letting his lips drag against hers before nudging her mouth open and again sucking her tongue into his mouth.

She rocked her hips forward, unthinkingly seeking relief and pleasure against his very prominent erection, and only when he groaned in response did she realize that both her hands had moved to tangle in his hair, while one of his hands was cupping her ass under her dress, urging her closer to him.

He pulled his mouth slightly away so that their foreheads touched and they gasped for the same air as they tried to catch their breaths. It struck Felicity suddenly that maybe they should talk, but Felicity for one didn’t know exactly what to say, and she was extremely aware that her clit was still pressed very satisfyingly against his erection, and it seemed to her that any attempt at conversation might result in the loss of that delicious contact, and she just wasn’t ready for that. Oliver also made no attempt to talk, or to push her away.

“Well, you two seem to be getting along pretty well.” Richard was doing a poor job of hiding his jealousy.

Oliver held Felicity for a moment longer, then he casually lifted her so she was again sitting on his lap with her back to him and smiled up at Richard. “I think we’ve met the pleasure quota. Time for business?” As he spoke, he ran his hands lightly up and down Felicity’s bare shoulders.

Richard poured amber liquid from a bottle into two glasses before taking a seat across from Oliver. He lifted one glass, and Oliver took the other. “To old friendships and new partnerships.” Oliver clinked his glass and they both swallowed their shots before Richard began pouring again. It was going to be one of those negotiations.

They started out talking in broad terms, neither man wanting to show his cards too soon. Oliver hinted that he wanted to give his patrons something new and exciting to spice up their club experience, while Richard made a series of bland suggestions that Oliver dismissed one after the other.

Felicity knew Oliver was paying close attention, directing the conversation ever-closer to the topic of drugs without seeming to, and she was likewise listening carefully for any telling details or hints as to where the books were kept. But she was also highly aware of Oliver’s body, and the ways he was touching her. She wondered whether he was aware of it too.

He had started by rubbing her arms, and then his hands had drifted into her lap and to her legs. His fingers skated lightly over the tops of her thighs, alternating between caressing her with the pads of his fingers and grazing her with his nails. Sometime soon after that, he began pressing occasional kisses to her neck. First just a light, chaste kiss followed by brushing his lips against her skin. A few minutes later, he repeated the kiss on the other side of her neck. When he returned to kiss her left side again, she almost jumped when she felt his tongue follow his lips over the sensitive skin, and he stayed there, still talking to Richard, his mouth sucking lightly on her neck and lifting to speak only to return again when he was silent.

After about 15 minutes of exquisite torture, their conversation had circled tight enough to touch on the subject of narcotics, and Richard excused himself, presumably to bring back a sample. Felicity sat still, Oliver’s lips still resting on her neck, and she tried to ignore the hundreds of questions that suddenly rushed to overwhelm her. She needed to stay cool. They were still in the middle of this thing.

And then Oliver kissed the back of her neck and ran his hand into her hair, turning her head toward his, and from this angle she could see his dilated pupils, the way his eyes flicked to her lips before meeting hers with a look that was half lust and half _something_ : that familiar something that was always there between them, except more noticeable right now because of the physical contact, the tangible memory of kisses and the still-present erection that Felicity could feel pressing into her ass. And the threatening questions fled her brain as he once again crashed his lips against hers, and she opened her mouth without hesitation. This kiss was deeper than the others had been, and Felicity again found herself straddling him, half-standing and using the height to her advantage. Oliver’s hands ran down her body, setting fire to nerve-endings she didn’t know she had, before reaching her ass, and until that moment she never knew true lust. She knew with bone-deep certainty that if they weren’t in public, she would strip him and climb on and let him guide her hips and ass as she rode his cock until they were both too exhausted to speak.

“Well, Oliver. Here I was thinking I would be teaching you a thing or two about mixing business with pleasure, but I wasn’t even gone 5 minutes and you’re about to fuck this chick in the middle of my VIP room!”

Felicity pulled back, and her eyes met Oliver’s just as Richard said “fuck.” Awareness passed between them, but it was the only thing she could be certain about. She had been ready to fuck him, and he had been ready to fuck her. What that all meant was something else entirely.

She stepped back and turned herself around so she was once again sitting with her back against Oliver’s chest. Richard gave her a lewd smile before turning back to Oliver, ready to discuss his real business: wide-scale distribution of a new boutique drug, Surge. Oliver feigned interest, Felicity analyzed Richard’s description of the operation for details that could help them put a stop to it, and Richard nearly frothed at the mouth over the opportunity to expand into Verdant.

Oliver’s arms were around her waist, holding her tightly against his chest.

When they got to the point of discussing shared profit percentages, Felicity knew they had him. Oliver asked for an overview of the books, and Richard couldn’t refuse. Oliver stood up and took her hand, not giving “Megan” a chance to say no. But as they followed Richard into the relatively-bright hallway, he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

As Oliver shook hands with Richard 20 minutes later, Felicity was pulled out of her calculations regarding the follow-up mission (part 2 of the plan) when she realized Richard was speaking to her. “So, Megan. Do you live around here?” His voice was heavy with implication, and Felicity was suddenly worried about whether or not she’d be able to make a safe, drama-free exit.

But she shouldn’t have worried.

Oliver was back at her side, and he raised her chin with his hand so she was looking directly into his eyes, even as his confident words were directed at Richard. “It doesn’t matter where she lives, because she’s coming home with me.” His eyes apologized for the phrasing, but there was something else they were trying to say, too. Felicity couldn’t quite decipher it. But he leaned down and pressed a light, lingering kiss against her lips before taking her hand and walking out of the club, side by side.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay:
> 
> 1\. The title is (surprise, surprise!) from a song: Heartbeats (I prefer the live cover by [The Knife](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-ywQW_4UaI4)).
> 
> 2\. Taking a short break from my plotty-plot season 7 spec fic (This Fortress Around Your Heart) because I'm out of town and mostly busy and can't seem to settle into plotty stuff when I'm not at home in my happy writing space. But I'll return to that soon, I hope.
> 
> 3\. Relatively few people seem to be reading my WIP which makes me sad and demotivated (but I'm not giving up! no worries there). If you read this story and like it, pls let me know and you will make me so happy! <3 <3 <3


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